Carnage
by King gunman
Summary: A short preview of a story arc for Spider-Man Unlimted 2 a quickly I did up for Halloween.


**Carnage**

Disclaimer: I in no way own any part of the Spider-Man franchise or any related characters…damn that still sucks.

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Authors note: After months of procrastination, Halloween finally arrived and me without a holiday fic. So, I decided to write this up real quick. Consider it a preview for a story arc in Spider-Man Unlimited 2. Several months ago; early, Spring.

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The starry night sky, a black velvet tapestry interwoven with glistening diamonds, has an ethereal beauty all its own, one that speaks to the hearts of men, whispers of dreams and nightmares abounding beyond the reach. These things were lost to Cletus Cassidy who sat alone in a stolen boat, its engine dead as his wretched soul, tossed leisurely about by the rough waves of the East River.

Cassidy slouched in the deck seat of the stolen patrol boat, his long legs propped against the side railing. His form was stained in blood matting his wild red hair and making his prison jumpsuit cling to his body in uncomfortable fashions. Cassidy's eyes were something else entirely. The fleshy orbs flickered in the pale moonlight, a fire unholy dancing across them baring truthfully his black heart and twisted mind.

With wrath abundant, Cassidy bolted upright, loosing an inhuman wail into the night and stabbed at his chair with a sharpened piece of rock he had crafted in his cell back on Rykers Island. He tore the fabric asunder and spilled the spongy stuffing out onto the deck floor like so many young men and women's innards before.

A crack and a snap ended his assault, the stone knife shattering his hand, splitting open his flesh. Any pain a normal human, normal _animal,_ would have felt was lost to Cletus Cassidy who gripped the bottom of the seat and tore it off its base in a berserker rage and hurled it into the river, screaming still.

"FFFUUUCCCCKKK! WHAT THE HELL MAN! WHAT THE HELL?!" Cassidy smashed a crimson fist against the bulletproof glass of the bridge, doing little than fracture the tiny bones in his hand, then spoke in a strained, quivering mutter: "I break out of fucking RYKERS ISLAND and the fucking BOAT breaks down! Now…now I'm just GONNA FUCKING FLOAT OUT TO SEA!? I had so MUCH to DO DAMN IT! So much beautiful CARNAGE left to REEK! NOT FAIR!"

Cletus paced back and forth the deck of the boat, ripping at his hair, still shrieking obscenities and ranting of his gory plans now ruined by a faulty motor. His head turned down never did he see the tiny pinprick of light steadily growing brighter and closer to him. In his thunderous ranting he never heard the low roar it made. But did feel it strike his back, tearing through his spine and lodging itself within his belly, the force sending him hurling over the railing and into the dark water with a splash.

The boat would continue to drift away until three days later, it was discovered by a passing fishing vessel and reported to the Coast Guard. After a long investigation, it was ruled that Cassidy as fatally wounded himself and was lost to sea. But, alas, what they failed to understand was the very nature of their world, a world where death was a near meaningless term to certain people. And Cassidy, with a heart so black Hell itself would reject him, was one of those people.

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The cold October air whirled around the small yacht, sending a pleasant chill up Anthony's spine. I had taken him three years to pay it all off, but now the yacht officially belonged to him and Susan. She hadn't much liked the idea of traveling out to sea at this time of year, but Anthony had been able to convince her with a mixture of his innate charm and the promise of taking her shopping for whatever her heart desired afterwards. His credit cards screamed.

Taking a deep breath of the salty sea air, Anthony stroked back his thick black hair and leaned against the prow with a smile. Here at sea was where he always felt he most belonged. The wild and nigh unpredictable wiles of the Ocean blue were his pulse, the comfort of the gentle waves splashing against the hull was his lullaby, the everlasting mystery the grand mother of life was his religion. Yes, the land offered none of these for him. If only Susan could understand.

Anthony sighed and shrugged and decided to peer in on his wife who had retired to below deck for a nap. The hard soles of his shoes clacked against the polished wood surface as he quickly trotted around the deck, humming a sailor's tune he had learned as a child.

Then, Anthony felt something rather odd. He gazed down are his foot. A puddle. He had stepped in a puddle. What was odd was that the waves were nowhere near high enough to splash up on deck. What was stranger still was that the puddle was in fact, part of a trail leading from the rear starboard side of the boat and right into the lower deck. Someone else was on the yacht.

Taking a gulp of air, Anthony cautiously descended the passage, avoiding the puddles of water on his way. His heart caught in his throat has a peculiar yet most familiar stench filled his nostrils. The final step was the hardest by far.

Anthony's heart was filled with horror and pain at the sight that greeted him. Susan was there. What, was left of her at least. She had still been laying down sleeping, that much he could tell, until something had woken her. Susan's big brown eyes were wide and mouth open in a silent scream. That was all she was able to do before something had torn her open from the inside. Her rib cage was burst outward, blood and gore splattered on the walls, floor and even the ceiling, still dripping down onto her pale flesh.

Tears welled in his eyes and a cry tried to force its way from his tight throat. Then, Anthony felt it. A sharp tightening around his neck and the sensation of a million needles tearing into his flesh and finally, nothing.

Anthony's limp corpse dropped headless to the floor, blood spewing from the stump of his neck. His head however, remained held aloft by a thick band of glistening red rope. The red rope twitched and slithered its way into Anthony's head, pushing and crushing against what ever got in its way.

From the ceiling, more and more of the crimson ropes lowered themselves and forced themselves into the severed head until it could finally contain no more and splintered, exploding in a shower of bone and flesh.

With a heavy splat, the rope's puppeteer fell from the ceiling. A crimson puddle spread across the floor, thick and viscous like oil. Slowly, the puddle bubbled and shrank, the rope's withdrawing back into it. Flowing and twisting in ways unnatural, the puddle grew upward and took a shape.

Its pseudo-flesh was a wet and sickening red, constantly twitching and slithering over a gaunt, hunched over frame. Tendrils sprang randomly from its body, thrashing wildly about before sinking back into it. Long arms of sinewy muscle dragged across the floor, hands tapering of his sinister claws. Worst yet was the head. Bulbous milky white eyes stretched from one end of its face to the other, cancerous black welts covered its scalp. And the mouth, if could call it that, was nothing more than a jagged scare cut across its face into a wicked smile of teeth formed of its flesh.

A sick, evil gurgle issued from deep within its belly and spewed out its mouth like a wheezing cough. Cletus Cassidy lived. Oh, what glorious carnage was to come!

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Sorry if this was not the best, I had planned an adaptation of an old Batman/Superman story for the Halloween fic, but time just slipped by, so here it is! Please leave a review if you would and check out my other stories.


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